Perdition's Fires
by Arella1
Summary: "I have a feeling that you would be a formidable chess player." His eyes were steady on hers. "If I were inclined to the game, which I'm not. Do you play?" Those amber orbs turned deep, masking the secrets he knew she had. "Oh, I'm much more of a Risk player, Khan." Then, she went back to her notes, leaving him to wonder if he hadn't played right into her hand.
1. An Unexpected Rescue

**AN:** Another story that's just been collecting dust. I don't know why...it has nothing at all to do with my tiny crush on Benedict. Nothing, I tell you! Original Khan was yummy, but my boy Sherlock playing him? Somebody fan me. Plus, I always kinda wanted Hermione to be one of those puppet masters when she grew up. This is super quick (again, I don't have a Beta for crossovers) but I hope you like it nonetheless. It is finished, so if there is interest, I'll be updating every few days. There are only four chapters, so you won't have a long wait. (It was _supposed_ to be a one-shot. Stupid muse and her stupid infatuation!)

Let me know if it's worth posting the rest. Cheers, dears!

* * *

Hermione Granger, the summer after the fall of Voldemort, had pushed herself to complete an accelerated course load to finish her NEWTs. She'd sailed through them with the highest scores in recorded history.

That task settled, she'd immediately gone to Australia to inform her parents of what had occurred in the past year. Though she had modified their memories, she'd done it with their (reluctant) consent. Their reunion was filled with tears, joy and near-crippling relief. The couple, however, had made a wonderful life for themselves and so decided to stay on the larger island. There were still vast groups of Voldemort's followers evading custody and so the couple's choice to remain 'off-grid' relieved Hermione greatly. She had too much on her plate at the moment and worrying constantly about the two people who meant the most to her would only make it harder for her to take out the creeps targeting them.

And no matter how much safer they would have been had she not returned their memories, she had made a promise to them the night she sent them to Australia. She'd sworn to undo her spells as soon as Voldemort was gone and though she'd fudged the time a bit by taking her NEWTs, she wouldn't break that oath. Her parents had given up everything for her, after all.

The end of the Blood Wars (as the conflicts with Voldemort across all decades were being called) came with no rest for those who had fought. The wizarding world needed to be rebuilt-politically, physically, emotionally, and economically-from the ground up. Dark wizards hadn't simply surrendered with the fall of Tom Riddle. The half-blood had scattered cells all over the world, his network frighteningly entrenched in a plethora of countries. The plans he'd had for those countries only fueled Hermione's determination to prevent another maniac like him from rising again.

After Britain fell, he was planning on moving onto the rest of the world. Only his obsession with the prophecy curbed his attention and handed his opponent the means to end him.

Hermione learned all this and more when she went to work for the Ministry. Most people-her friends included-thought that she was a junior secretary to some nobody office worker. In reality, she was an Unspeakable slowly and surely moving witches and wizards into the positions she wanted to shape the rebuilding world as she wished. She'd always, _always_ been the smartest person in the room, but people tended to overlook that. Sure, everyone knew that she could pull archaic or obscure spells out of her mind at the drop of a hat, but they forgot that she was more than a walking encyclopedia. They forgot or didn't realize that intelligence-true brilliance-was more than just theoretical information. Hermione was a genius and quite adept at getting what she wanted from whom she wanted.

The boys thought that she nagged them about the rules at school because she disliked rebelling. That was partly correct. What absolutely infuriated her was the way they completely disregarded the rules and, like a bull in a china shop, destroyed half the room to get to their goal. _She_ worked within the parameters of the rules. She learned them, inside and out, every single loophole and technicality. She was a master at maneuvering any situation to her advantage because of that and it saw her getting much more accomplished than simply blowing through laws she didn't like.

Hermione knew the game and that was why she _always_ won.

It also put her in a prime position to be very nearly running the Ministry. She, Amelia Bones (who had survived, barely), and Kingsley Shacklebolt, were the three people effective governing the wizarding world. Nothing happened unless it came from them.

Sitting back in her chair, Hermione rolled her shoulders to ease the ache between them. Her job required an obscene amount of paperwork. If she and her contacts were successful in their current project, however, the Ministry would be able to convert to computers within two years' time. It would make things so much easier and efficient. Magic was at its core a manipulation of energy, after all, and so she saw no reason that with the right arithmancy and runes, electronics couldn't be used in the wizarding world. Really, it was as if an electronic got a massive surge of energy when in contact with a witch or wizard and should a magical 'surge protector' be developed, then the problem would be eliminated.

A small tile on the edge of her desk suddenly turned mauve, breaking her out of her thoughts. Cursing, she drew her wand and touched the tip to the mauve tile. Instantly, she was transported to an office with the two most powerful people in the wizarding Britain. Her stomach twisted at the tautness of their expressions.

"What's happened?" she demanded, stowing her wand.

Kingsley promptly handed her a file as Amelia began a verbal briefing.

"We've penetrated Albania in pursuit of a few of Voldemort's more obscure followers. In the process-and quite by accident-one of the hitwizards stumbled across a research facility."

"Genetics?" Hermione mumbled with confusion as she absorbed the information from the file.

"Yes," the Minister grunted. "According to what Sanders was able to find, Voldemort was heavily supportive of efforts to manipulate genomes. He'd implanted a few of his followers into the fledgling lab decades ago."

Hermione's eyes widened in horror as her eyes flew over the paper. "He was attempting to bind magic to muggle genes."

Scowling, Kingsley nodded and sat forward at his desk. "It began as selective breeding and progressed. He wanted to create the perfect, obedient soldier. 'Project Chrysalis', it was called and had varying degrees of success. Phase I of the project was entirely wiped out."

"Twenty children destroyed because they were violent psychopaths," Amelia spat, her hands in fists in her lap.

The younger woman closed her eyes in anguish at the thought as Kingsley continued somberly.

"Phase II was better, but none of them lived passed the age of ten. Phase III, however, became known as 'Augments'. None of them have manifested magic, but they are stronger, smarter, and faster than muggles."

"Too magical for the muggle world and too muggle for the magical," The older witch sniffed in aggravation on behalf of the children. "Reports indicate that Voldemort was furious at what he saw as a failure, but he wasn't above using the Augments to further his cause. He considered them little more than dogs, and like any dog of pedigree, he asked a hefty price for them when unscrupulous governments and private wealth came knocking."

Hermione covered her mouth and looked back at the other two. "He sold them to the highest bidders as super-soldiers. How many are we talking about out in the open?"

Kingsley shook his head. "We can't confirm numbers without that facility. We do believe that the best of the best are still held there. Voldemort's plans for the Augments had just begun to be implemented shortly before Harry finished him. If he follows any kind of logical thought process, he probably began selling the weakest first, simply to feel out the market."

Snapping the file closed, Hermione furrowed her brow as she rapidly calculated everything. "This is going to be a nightmare. If the Augments held in that facility have done nothing, then they are effectively innocent hostages. Regardless of their ability to do magic, if magic is enhancing them, then they fall under wizarding rule according to Amendment 53 sub-article x of the Galry Law. We can't allow them to continue in this vein."

Amelia gave a sharp nod. "Agreed, but there are several factors we must examine before we go rushing into saving them. One, there are at least a couple hundred frozen Augmented embryos. Two, the Phase III Augments have been reared for warfare. They will have more than just social problems. I can't believe that only two phases removed from the first had all of the aggression and violence issues fixed. I fully expect they will be sociopaths at best and savage brutes at worst. _Intelligent_ killing machines. We cannot release that onto the population."

Kingsley's mouth tightened as he silently acknowledged her claim. "Perhaps safe houses, then. We'll have our best Healers and Mentalists examine them and make plans based on those reports. We have limited time before the next sale is scheduled and so anything more in-depth is going to have to wait. This is going to be black ops, Granger. I can't afford anybody getting wind of this and crucifying the Augments simply because Voldemort backed their birth. If it leaked that Voldemort created the perfect soldiers, panic would set in and we'd have riots."

Hermione sat up straighter and turned her attention to Amelia. It wasn't often that she was actually in the field these days-only on the most covert and likely dangerous missions was she sent. An ephemeral thought drifted through her mind that she could relate to the Augments somewhat; she often felt that the person she was today had been born and reared in war.

"Retrieve all the Phase III Augments. Make certain that the facility is destroyed and any muggles involved are inside when it is. I want the wizards brought straight to Amelia for interrogation. We need to know _everything_ about Chrysalis if we are to have a chance at stopping this from getting very bad very soon."

"And the embryos?" Hermione asked, studying a blueprint of the compound that Amelia unrolled on the desk.

"Do what you can to secure them as well. The best we can do is keep them in stasis until the rest of the matter is solved. As far as I'm concerned, they are unborn children caught in a situation that should never have occurred."

Amelia passed her a couple more files. "This is everything we have on them. Your portkey leaves tomorrow night at seven and takes you a half mile north of the compound."

"What are we telling the Albanian authorities?"

Kingsley snorted. "As far as they're concerned, that facility doesn't even exist. They can't question what is going to happen there without opening a large can of worms they cannot afford right now. If the United Nations knew of this, they would be facing serious repercussions."

Running a hand through her hair, Hermione pushed aside her own feelings on the matter and buckled down to save yet another group of people who Voldemort had destroyed.

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* * *

Hermione peered down at the compound from her position in the ruins of what must have once been a watchtower. She'd catalogued all the comings and goings for two days and meticulously studied the wards. Week and neglected, they were less an obstacle than a spider web to her. Lips pursing, she nodded to herself and vanished her conjured binoculars before casting a patronus.

The playful spell bounded around her, eager to be of use. Wasting no time, she informed Amelia that she was moving and then sent the otter off with the message. Blowing out a centering breath, Hermione turned back to the building and made her way down undetected.

When she was in range of the room she had targeted, she carefully and precisely vanished several blocks of the outside wall. Having created enough room, she conjured ten Otters and wove several spells into their fur. That done, she sent them into the room. Soon, they were returning with large cases filled with the cryogized Augmented embryos.

As the last case cleared the wall-all of the alarms and security rendered null with the spells she cast on the animals-Hermione carefully stacked the cases together. As the Otters scrambled on top, she briefly touched her wand to one's head and then watched as they disappeared. Restoring the wall to its former state, she turned her attention to the harder part of the plan. There had been no way for them to discover just how many Augments besides the embryos were actually on site. They speculated anywhere from twenty to forty, but could be as many as a hundred if more embryos had been birthed since Phase III's first group reached their teens.

Biting her lip, Hermione conjured fifteen sleek Wolves and wove more intense spells into them. By the end of the ordeal, she was sweating from the effort. Breathing deeply to steady her nerves and center herself, she checked her magic levels. Drained, but still in good shape. As long as she didn't have to fight the Augments on top of the whack-jobs that ran the place, she should be fine.

Clenching her wand, she motioned to the Wolves and murmured strict instructions to them. When she'd let her magic wash over the embryos, she'd been able to confirm her theory that her magic would be able to sense the latent magic in them. As she had suspected, they were sentient, magical beings and that made her doubly determined to get them the Hell out of this prison and prove that not all magicals were like Voldemort.

Her Wolves entered the compound silently, Hermione following closely. One of them snarled and leapt around the corner, landing on one of the scientists. Instantly, the man was stunned, courtesy of the spell woven into the Wolf's pelt.

Nose flaring in agitation, Hermione waved her wand and double checked that he wasn't a wizard. Confirming him muggle, she bound him and disillusioned him before shoving him over to the side. Thus, she made her way through the facility, her Wolves stunning anyone in her path. She found the lead scientist's computer and cautiously halted her Wolves. Luckily, floppy disks seemed to have no adverse reaction to magic and so she downloaded everything on Project Chrysalis into a handful of disks that she'd brought.

Blowing out a breath, she motioned for her Wolves as she once more took up her search. Finally, she came to the Augments' living quarters. Deciding to forgo the subtle path, she blasted open the door and immediately stunned the occupant. She was a young girl, barely into her teens. Scowling in rage at the sight, Hermione tapped the girl's shirt and sent her portkeying back to Amelia. Systematically, she worked her way through the wing, becoming more and more furious at the overall injustice she was finding.

That emotion was perhaps what fueled her spell when she blew a hole in the last door and eyed the occupant. Unlike the others, he didn't cower away or flinch. Instead, he shifted to face her, his stance obviously confrontational and alert.

But, he held his attack.

Amber eyes narrowed as they met ice blue and magic coiled between them. He couldn't wield it, but that didn't mean this man wasn't _powerful._ She could practically taste the latent magic on him and it called to her own in a way that completely unnerved her. The hairs on her arms stood on end as each of them studied the other.

High cheekbones and precise, dark hair paired with solid muscles gave the man a commanding appearance. He also couldn't have been much older than she. Shaking herself almost visibly, Hermione mentally pulled herself back to the task at hand.

"I've got five minutes until this building goes 'boom'," she stated, her mask concealing her face and head, while a spell altered her voice. "You want to stay or come with me?"

Blinking, he straightened. "I certainly do not wish to remain here."

Nodding, she stepped back and motioned for him to exit in front of her. He did, and then tensed when he saw the Wolves. Hermione smiled, knowing he wouldn't see it.

"They're mine. Move it, superman, unless you want to find out how fire proof you are," she drawled, passing him and jogging towards the exit, her Wolves surrounding her.

He kept pace with her easily, which she expected, and didn't try to make a break for it when they were clear of the building-which she had _not_ expected. The only hiccup in their break for freedom came when the last scientist careened around the corner.

Hermione had a shield raised in a heartbeat as she spotted the wand in his hand.

"You _bitch!_ " he screamed, firing off another spell as her Wolves lunged at him.

"Alive, my darlings," she called to the spell-beasts as the wizard's screams took on a decidedly different nature.

The stunning spells had worn off of their pelts, but the dark wizard was still no match for them. Hermione whistled to direct the Wolves aside and then crushed the unconscious man's wand under her boot.

"Clumsy me," she taunted, moving her wand and levitating the cretin. Glancing back and seeing a pensive expression on the Augment's face, she shrugged. "Still coming?"

"Should that have dissuaded me?" he drawled with an arched brow.

Chuckling, she turned towards the three wizards bound and propped up against a tree. All of them were cursing and loudly demanding to be released. A lazy swish of her wand and the half-dead wizard at her side landed with the group.

"Shut up," she snarled, kicking the loudest complainer in the stomach. "You're a waste of my time and talent, you worthless, inbred bigot. If we didn't need your information, I'd have killed you with the rest of your ignorant cohorts."

"Do you know who we _are!_ " the balding one screeched. "When my family hears about this…"

Narrowing her eyes, she leveled her wand at him and silenced his rant. "That's the beauty of this operation: they _won't_ hear about this. _Nobody_ is going to hear about this."

A cruel, unrelenting emotion unfurled in her gaze and her voice held an edge of malice death eaters had come to fear.

"You're just going to disappear."

And then, she flicked her wrist, sending them all to the holding cells Amelia had waiting.

"Bastard," she spat, before turning to the man standing in quiet observation.

"Who are you?" he asked, his brows furrowed as he tried to understand what he'd just seen. " _What_ are you?"

"You can call me Agent Copper," she stated. "However, technically speaking, I'm not here."

The facility exploded with a near-deafening sound, but neither person glanced its way. Hermione tipped her head to the side, studying the Augment just as closely as he was her.

"As to the what…well, I'm a witch. Fancy traveling abroad?" she asked, holding out her free hand and wiggling her fingers to him in invitation.

He didn't say anything for long minutes, but she never wavered in her stare or her silent offer. Finally, he seemed to relax and tentatively slid his palm over hers. "Your explosion was two minutes late," he informed her.

Throwing back her head, she laughed. "I hope you didn't have a large supper," she replied instead of disputing his claim, "because this is really going to suck."

And then they were pulled away.

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* * *

The Augment landed on his feet, disoriented and vaguely sick, but aware enough to know that he was some place completely different.

"Agent Copper, Director Bones requested this be made available to you when you arrive," he heard a clipped voice state.

Glancing to his side, he saw that the woman who'd rescued him was sliding up her mask just enough to expose her mouth. Plucking a vial from the tray the greying man was carrying, she uncorked it and sniffed it cautiously before downing the contents. She repeated the procedure with three more.

"Thanks, Reg," she muttered, sliding her mask back into place.

Amber eyes bordering on gold swung to his. "I have to say I'm impressed. I knew that you were biologically superior to muggles, but you didn't even stumble. Most people lose his or her last meal after his or her first portkey trip-especially one covering that great a distance."

"As you say, I am superior," he replied, filing away her strange slang.

Laughing, she waved away the other man when he made to step between them. "That's vaguely insulting, Reginald," she admonished. "I just took out a den of snakes and you think that the man I did it for is going to attack me? You think I couldn't take him if he did?"

The older man's face tightened as he tried to draw himself up to intimidating proportions. "I've heard things, ma'am. It's not right, sending you by yourself like that. Reports say the Augments are twice as strong as a muggle and much more aggressive. Rabid, they are."

A chill filled the air as the woman's jovial demeanor plummeted into the same as when she was breaking the scientist's ribs with her boot. Sliding around until she could look into Reginald's eyes, she cut off his view of the Augment.

Vaguely, the younger man wondered if this was supposed to be as amusing as he was finding it. He had no idea where he was, no idea how he came to be there, and no idea who the woman was that had saved him. She was a good foot shorter than he and yet, he knew without a shadow of a doubt she was _extremely_ dangerous. He'd known her all of twenty minutes; how the Hell had the other man lived with being as stupid as he obviously was-provoking her like that?

"You know less than nothing, Reginald," she growled lowly, "and I don't answer to you. The man you called 'rabid' has been exponentially more courteous than _you_ have and has managed to _not piss me off_ by insulting things of which he is ignorant. Now, I'm sure you didn't mean to sound like a chauvinistic zealot so if you don't want to find yourself assigned to clean-up rotations the rest of the quarter, you will keep your lips sealed and not inflict your presence on me for the foreseeable future."

Snapping to attention, Reginald nodded jerkily and stuttered out an apology before scampering out of the room with his tray.

Huffing, the woman directed her attention back the remaining man. "I apologize for that. He had no right to say it, but we've just come through a war and anything remotely connected to the fallen enemy is panic inducing. What's your name, anyway?"

Arching a brow, he stood with his hands loosely behind his back, his entire bearing radiating an assurance of his innate superiority. "Khan Singh," he replied, a slight tip of his head angled at her respectfully.

If there was one thing he knew, Khan knew power and he had a feeling he'd just met someone he definitely wanted as an ally.

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* * *

He was bustled away shortly after that; the mysterious Agent Copper disappearing as soon as he'd been passed off to people she called 'Healers'.

"Your friends and other Augments are safe," the blonde Healer told him, waving some kind of odd stick over his body. "Agent Copper retrieved all of you from the facility."

Some of the tension went out of his muscles at that relieving information. "And the embryos?"

"Safe and being held in stasis," she replied, her eyes soft and kind. "You're very lucky, you know. Copper is brilliant; I doubt anyone else could have gotten all of you out without some kind of sacrifice."

"Why?"

Pulling back, she smiled in reassurance. "Why did we act to pull you out? Because you and all of the Augments don't deserve the fate that was given to you. You belong in our world and…oh, it's a very long story."

Pulling out a book from her pocket, she handed it to him. "Copper assures me that you are extremely intelligent. I would like to do a few more tests, just to be certain I haven't missed anything with your altered biology. When I'm done, a Mentalist…a mind healer, if you will…is going to make certain that those fools haven't tampered with you up there. This book is the recent history of the wizarding world-our world. It should give you a firmer base and we'll go from there."

Gratefully accepting it, Khan mused over the tentative feeling growing inside him. It felt almost like hope.

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* * *

Kingsley sat at the round table where two exhausted witches were waiting. Pouring a glass of wine, he took a healthy drink and then sighed heavily.

"This is a nightmare," he grunted, his mind going back to Hermione's first assessment of the situation. "Thirteen Augments already entrenched in various parts of the world."

Hermione nodded and poked at her fish as she tried to hold her eyes open. The toll for using so much magic was finally catching up with her.

"The Healer stated that all of the Augments were physically in peak health, but the Mentalist was another story. He found extensive attempts at memory alteration and subliminal coercion. Spells used and out-right life trauma has severely stunted many of the Augments emotionally. Some of the more extreme cases will struggle with it the rest of their lives."

"And how are they taking us?" Amelia inquired, pushing her plate away.

Stifling a yawn, the other witch shrugged. "The mediwitches did their exams while their patients were kept asleep. Khan's the only one who's been awake."

Kingsley's eyes jerked to her at that reminder. "Yes, care to explain why you left the most dangerous one conscious?"

Scowling, she followed Amelia's example and shoved her uneaten food aside. "Because he _is_ the most dangerous, that's why. He's going to be the one they automatically look to for guidance. If he saw who helped him and has been witness to how we've treated the Augments since, then he is more likely to be amendable to us. We need him on our side! We need the Augments to _want_ to be healed and integrate into our world. If they don't, then we'll be faced with a choice I would really not care to face," she snarled.

"Let them go or execute them," Amelia nodded in understanding. "Like it or not, they fall under wizarding law and are classified as sentient magical beings. If they go rogue, they could very well expose us all."

Hermione pointed to her in agreement. "Exactly. The Augments will see us executing their brethren and inevitably turn their penchant for battle on the wizarding world. The muggles will go into mass hysteria because the Augments will no doubt break the Statute of Secrecy and will take up arms against _both_ outside sections. The Augments will retaliate on the muggles and soon enough we'll be fighting a global war against _everyone_."

"Fuck," Kingsley blew out on a harsh exhale. "And with the Augment's abilities and muggle technology, we'd have a devil of a time stopping either." Placing his fork on the table, he waved his hand. "Let's make sure we don't have to cross that bridge, then. We need to make certain the Augments know they are welcome and that all we want from them is compliance with our laws."

Amelia and Hermione smiled tiredly. "Yes. We'll start tomorrow. Copper, speak to Khan about bringing the other Augments out of their state of suspension. Also, anything he can tell us about Chrysalis would be greatly appreciated. Merlin help us if more than one of those facilities existed."

"I dropped off the facility's disks at my contact's office after I left Khan," she nodded. "I'll get the info he's managed to glean from them tomorrow and then speak to Khan."

As the three stood and made their way toward the fireplace, on the other side of the door, Khan frowned in concentration. He'd followed a strange impulse until he reached a rather plain door that would not allow him passage. Low voices drew his attention and with his superior hearing, he eavesdropped on an obviously important discussion.

The talk of executing his people made rage rise in him, but he tempered it until the conversation was over. When he heard that those were last-resort contingency plans, his anger drained and that almost uncomfortable feeling of hope bloomed once more. These people didn't actually seek to use the Augments for anything. It was bizarre to him, and yet, he found himself relaxing at the thought. Maybe…just maybe, his people could finally be free.

"Khan!" The friendly elderly blonde Healer admonished from down the hall. "I've been looking for you everywhere."

"I wished to see more of where I am being held," he stated without inflection.

Blue eyes were soft and motherly as she tsked at him. "Plenty of time for that later, child. You've endured quite a bit of trauma to your mind and Mentalist Stacy has ordered you rest after he worked on you earlier."

"I do not require a normal human's amount of sleep," he informed her.

"Humor me," she deadpanned, and tugged him after her.

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	2. An Unexpected Alliance

Hermione smirked when she stepped out of her fireplace and began heading toward her much-needed bed. She'd heard so much about the intelligence of the Augments that she was looking forward to going head to head with Khan when he regained his bearings. She'd felt him outside the meeting room the moment he brushed her Wards. A split-second decision had her modifying the Wards to allow him to hear the conversation.

She hoped that he liked her opening move, because she was going to do everything in her power to ensure the Augment's loyalty.

After changing into her comfortable pajamas, she pulled several ancient tomes from a bookshelf and settled happily down into her bed. After over a decade in the wizarding world, there were still aspects of magic that managed to surprise her. During her research into Horcruxes, she'd stumbled across a few references to magical 'Compatibility'. At the time, she'd dismissed it as drivel from the minds of people like Trelawney and pushed it aside.

Her opinion on the matter did a complete turn-around the moment she'd locked eyes with Khan Singh. His magic was latent-only barely manifested in superior physiology. There was no logical reason she should have felt more than a faint spark of awareness from his aura; the same faint spark she'd felt from all the other Augments and the occasional squib she'd met. That hadn't been the case at _all._

Khan _burned_ like a miniature super-nova suspended in crystal. All it would take was one calculated move to disturb the stasis of his magic and he would erupt-incinerating everything around him. It was shear, raw _power_ and it called to her like nothing she'd ever encountered. With that realization came the remembrance of Compatibility.

The blue-eyed leader would likely never be able to wield a wand, but Hermione knew most magical beings didn't need a focus for their innate magic. Perhaps the Augments would be able to do small, wandless magic-or have differing talents for less spell casting branches of magic such as potions or arithmancy.

Her eyes finally found the passage for which she'd been searching while she mused. Eagerly, she read the section-much larger than she remembered it being. She'd probably dismissed it after the first few sentences the last time she'd investigated it, the witch thought wryly. Despite her fatigue, she stayed up quite a while researching and jotting down notes.

Compatibility-in the most simplistic definition-was the notion that magic users' magic could determine how compatible two people were. Supposedly, when two people who were highly compatible-whose magic complimented each other's completely-met, their magic would recognize it and react. If the two people then bound themselves together through consummation, their magic would stabilize and be boosted exponentially.

Typically, the two would fit together like a puzzle, one partner's weaknesses the other's strengths. It was supposed to be the highest sought match, and the most elusive. There hadn't been a true couple of complete Compatibility in decades.

That information made Hermione frown in thought. In all actuality, the likelihood of she and Khan meeting was slim. She could pinpoint half a dozen decisions in the last five years that would have seen either someone else blowing up that facility, or that facility never being found at all.

If she'd acted on her brash impulse to kiss Ron in the Final Battle, no doubt she would have been intensely pressured into a relationship with him. That would have ended disastrously and she would have either stayed with her parents in Australia until the Weasleys got over it, or taken a job where she wouldn't have to see him every day. That meant no Ministry job. Or, horrors of horrors, she would have _married_ him and been stuck in a marriage where each of them tried to change the other into something neither was.

Thank Merlin she had snapped out of her moment of Gryffindor sentimentality. It snuck up on her at the most inconvenient times. Ron was a good man, but she thought more in her _sleep_ than he ever did. He also would have never approved of any of her machinations and would have had no concept of her long-term goals. In fact, she rather thought that he would feel threatened and embarrassed if she had a better job than he.

She'd just have to pay attention to Khan Singh and see if this Compatibility nonsense really wasn't as rubbish as she first thought.

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Khan eyed the man behind the desk as he smiled and offered the Augment a seat.

"Mr. Singh, it is a pleasure to finally meet you. I'm Kingsley Shacklebolt, Britian's Minister for Magic."

Accepting the seat, Khan nodded politely. "I presume it is to you I owe thanks for our removal from Albania?"

Kingsley smiled again. "Partly. I authorized the mission, Director Amelia Bones organized it, and Agent Copper carried it out. She dropped off her final report this morning. All of your people have woken without complication, I understand."

The younger man inclined his head. "Yes. Your Healers and Mentalists have been very thorough and have already begun treatment on those of us who need it."

"Good, good. I'm glad to hear that everything is proceeding well. However, there is much that you and I must discuss. Copper seems to think that you are the most powerful Augment and therefor are automatically their leader. Is this correct?"

A smirk pulled at his mouth. "Of course."

The sight of the haughty-almost cunning-expression made Kingsley blink. Nevertheless, he filed that away and continued the meeting. "Excellent. I'll be as honest with you and as transparent as possible, Mr. Singh. This situation is not ideal for anyone. Have you a working understanding of recent wizarding history?"

"Yes. Healer Eleanor and Agent Copper both provided me with several books and papers." They had also answered any questions he had about their world-especially how it pertained to the Augments. Still, he was very anxious for more information. Superior intelligence or not, _magic_ was so far removed from his realm of experience that he felt at a vast disadvantage. If he wanted his people to thrive, though, he was going to have to learn all he could in a very short amount of time.

The Minister seemed pleased. "We are a meager five years out of the Blood Wars. As you can imagine, anything even hinting at being linked to Voldemort is fanatically opposed. It won't matter to a mob that you and the other Augments are victims as well. We will do everything in our power to protect your people, but please don't put us in a situation where your origins are brought to light for the public."

Folding his hands on top of the desk, Kingsley met his eyes. "You and your people are part of our world, subject to wizarding laws and protected by those laws. Few know about Project Chrysalis, which is a boon and a burden. I appreciate you allowing us to examine your physiology."

Khan arched a brow. "Agent Copper made a convincing argument. Though we are much more durable than…muggles, we are not void of weaknesses. Should something happen, mediocre healthcare is unacceptable."

That pulled a laugh from the other man. "Yes, she's a clever one, that girl. Not one I'd lightly cross. That brings me to another point. What our Mentalist found is disturbing, Mr. Singh. I can't begin to comprehend everything that was done to you, but the effects are cause for some concern."

The Augment leaned back in his chair and pressed the tips of his fingers together. "Phase III still produced elevated levels of aggression and arrogance. We were built for warfare, Minister. We're sociopaths."

To his credit, Kingsley didn't flinch. An odd look flickered in his dark eyes just before he gave a faint smile. "You may have been built for war, Mr. Singh, but an entire generation of witches and wizards spent their formative years fighting in one. I think you'll find willing ears and understanding minds in our world. But that's not what I wanted to address, really. You are a high functioning, intelligent being. If you choose to be a model citizen, I've no doubt you will succeed in the endeavor."

"Mentalist Stacy assures me that the children have the potential to avoid the effects you suffer. With counseling and Mental regiments, they will be able to control their more hostile side. A family support system would be invaluable. Would the adult Phase III Augments be willing to adopt the children, or do you feel it would be better for both if we placed the children in foster homes?"

Khan paused to process that. He'd not considered that they would separate them. Foolish of him. "A few would be better off without the responsibility of a child, however I don't believe it wise to immediately break them apart."

"We had planned to place you all at one of our countryside safe-houses for the next few weeks."

"Acceptable," Khan agreed.

The Minister waved his wand at the door. "Excellent. On another, less pleasant topic: the thirteen Augments that were sold."

A muscle in Khan's jaw jumped as his eyes narrowed. "Kill them."

Kingsley's brows shot up in astonishment. "May I know why you would suggest that course of action? There are a few options open to us for their removal from their current positions."

"It's really very simple," Khan told him with a chilling lack of emotion, "they are the weakest-in _everything_ , Minister. That includes self-control. They have sold their own loyalty to the highest bidder on the minute chance of _not_ being exploited. The scientists asked for _volunteers_ before the first auction. Those traitors would jeopardize this opportunity for my people. If you do not destroy them, we will do it in your stead."

A tense silence stretched between them as Kingsley weighed what Khan had stated against what his contacts had discovered. Slowly, he sighed and nodded.

"We'll take that under advisement. Now then, once your people have settled and acclimated to the wizarding world, where can you see your people wanting to work?"

At Khan's look, the older man clarified.

"The tests you and the others underwent show that you have several gifts beyond your above average intelligence and physiology. I've been discussing your options with one of my employees who is in a unique position to assist you. Or, do you feel that finding employment in the muggle world would be more beneficial for you?"

Before Khan could answer, the door burst open and a miniature whirlwind hurtled into the room. It was actually a young woman, overladen with files and quite cross, if the scowl on her pretty face was any indication.

"Ah, Miss Granger," Kingsley grinned, an almost mischievous twinkle in his eyes, "punctual, as usual."

The woman's scowl deepened. "Stop that. You're worse than Albus."

A chuckle was the only reply she received, prompting her to huff and dismiss the man. Turning suddenly warm, kind eyes to Khan, she smiled.

"You must be Mr. Singh," she noted, settling her burden on Kingsley's desk in order to offer the Augment her gloved hand in greeting.

Standing, he accepted the offer and bowed over her hand politely. "You have me at a disadvantage," he drawled, his eyes never leaving hers.

There was something very familiar about her, though Khan knew he'd never seen her. It was almost similar to the feeling that coursed through him when Agent Copper was near him. He wondered if it was something that happened in response to witches close to his age. This girl's features were fair, punctuated by amber eyes dancing with intelligence and not hindered by her chestnut hair threatening to erupt from her neat braid. Though she was almost dainty in build, there was an aura of power curling around her. It reminded him of the feeling one had when lightning was about to strike. At his words, she threw another sharp look at Kingsley.

"Hermione Granger," she introduced, her face tightening minutely at the recognition that lit his eyes. "I am the Undersecretary for Relocation."

Her title cleared up his confusion over her presence. She was the second most decorated veteran of the Blood Wars-of course he wondered why she would be involved.

"A minor government position," she shrugged off the weight of her job, yet something in the way she rolled out the statement made him wonder at the claim, "and needed in decreasing frequency recently."

Kingsley motioned for her to take the vacant chair-which she ignored, but indicated her inoffense if Khan returned to his.

"Out of necessity," she began, "the Minister has brought me into confidence on yours and your people's situation." Pausing, her brows furrowed as a thought seemed to snag her attention. "Ah, first, what would your people like to be referred to as? Is 'Augment' offensive? Or, in the interest of whatever backstory we're going to spin, should another term be used?"

A genuine laugh was startled from him, making her blink rapidly and flush, thinking he was mocking her. The slight crinkles in the corner of his eyes gave credence to his sincerity when he was able to regain his composure, however.

"Apologies, Miss Granger," he smiled. "That is the first time any of us have been consulted on the matter. I'm sure you can appreciate the surrealism of the moment."

Huffing again, she shuffled a few files. "Just don't pick 'homo superior' and we'll call it even."

Arching a brow, Khan felt amused at her and wondered if she expected him to understand her jibe. He had been exposed to the world at large-the muggle side, at least.

"Magneto was rather brilliant, you must admit." His lips curled at her startled glance, but he continued before she could comment. "Accuracy aside, no, 'homo superior' is not exactly supportive of our efforts to integrate, is it? 'Augment' is not offensive to us, but as you say, may not be suitable for any who do not know our true origins."

Narrowing her eyes, she nodded and jotted down a few notes in a small notebook. "What about 'Latent'? From what I've read in your charts, there is latent magic in you besides the enhancements to your body and mind. We could spin a story of you all being squibs Voldemort had captured and was conducting experiments on beginning with his first trip to Albania."

Kingsley crossed his arms. "I thought we were trying to disconnect Voldemort from them all together? Won't this have the same impact as the truth?"

Khan shook his head, understanding where the witch was heading with her idea. "If we are seen as having magic without any outside assistance-minute though it may be-and were taken specifically _because_ no one in the wizarding world would miss us, it will spin us as blameless in the scenario. The public will feel guilty that they didn't notice over a hundred people being taken for the Dark Lord's sick torture and will seek to make amends. Any magic we might be able to do will be chalked up to the extreme trauma we underwent."

Hermione bobbed her head as he spoke, agreeing with him. "Everyone will feel horrible that Voldemort once again used society's prejudice against them. It will keep people from digging too deeply. Besides-even if they do-what will they find? A destroyed facility in Albania that _was_ used for experimentation and three wizards who received the Kiss because of their contributions to the torture. The only loose end is the embryos."

Kingsley ran a hand over his face. "Chrysalis records indicate varying degrees of success in bringing the altered embryos out of stasis. We could seriously injure or kill them if we attempt the feat."

"Right now, yes," Hermione agreed. "Perhaps the Department of Mysteries, then? A team of Unspeakables could be tasked with studying the Chrysalis records and working out a way to save the embryos. Keeping them in stasis indefinitely isn't an answer. They're children."

Brightening, the Minister made a few notes of his own. "I knew there was a reason I hired you," he teased.

Rolling her eyes, the witch looked to the silent Khan. "Is that an acceptable solution for you?"

"Yes. We'd like them saved, if at all possible."

"Fantastic," she smiled. "As you've no doubt surmised, my job is to find places and histories for those displaced by the Wars; whether by choices they made or by sheer destruction, I handle getting those people where they need to be for a new start. I have compiled a list of jobs in the wizarding world which would be open to the Latents. Some, NEWTs in the field would be required, others simply passing interviews. Of course, all this is extremely preliminary. Your Healers think that some of you have the ability to manifest different magical gifts. Some of you may even have a great enough magical core to cast small wandless spells."

She passed him a fairly thick file, much larger than he was expecting when she called it 'preliminary'. Obviously her reputation for being meticulous was well earned.

"I realize the culture shock is enormous," she stated and he knew that as a muggle-born she would have experience with exactly what he and his people would feel when faced with this.

"I'm told that many of you will be under the care of a Mentalist for a while. Please take all the time you need to study that file. I'll be working with you and a few Healers to see if anyone begins to develop those gifts I mentioned. If so, more opportunities in the wizarding world will open for the individual. If any Latents would rather seek employment in the muggle world, I will also be a liaison for them."

Scanning the first few pages of the file, Khan felt his interest peaked at the wide variety of occupations open to them.

"What of housing? You must know that we have only the clothes on our backs." Glancing up, he met her eyes. "I dislike the idea of us being indebted."

A sharp glint sparked in her expression as she inclined her head. "Of course. The Ministry is prepared to house you until such time as the individual Latent is either placed with a family-in the case of the children-or brings home three paychecks-in the case of the adults. I've arranged for tutors to begin lessons and I can arrange for any exams that are necessary. Minister Kingsley has already set up a History of Magic class as well as a Wizarding Culture class for you when the Latents are cleared for the safe-house."

Kingsley nodded. "We'll meet again before we release your finished backstory to the public. Will you continue to be the spokesperson for your people?"

Crystal blue eyes snapped to him. "As you said, Minister, I am the most superior."

Hermione smirked and gathered her files. "I'm very busy, so I will bid you good day, Mr. Singh. Owl me when you are ready to meet with me, or if you have any questions. My door is always open to you."

Shooting him one last warm smile, she swept from the room as swiftly as she'd entered. Kingsley chuckled when the door closed.

"Yes," he answered the thought he could read on the younger man's face, "she's always like that. Brightest mind in our age, you know; everyone is in constant need of something from her." His dark eyes were shrewd as they leveled on blue. "She's a powerful ally, Mr. Singh, as I'm sure you've realized."

"For a minor government employee," Khan drawled, prompting Kingsley to grin slyly and say no more on the subject.

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Khan soon found himself working quite close to Hermione Granger in their efforts to settle his people. The more he worked with her, the more she weighed on his mind. If only he could pinpoint what it was about her that called to him. It was more than her brilliance-and there was no denying _that_ aspect of her. She positively glowed with intelligence. It baffled him that those people around her so easily dismissed such a blatant part of her.

He'd met several of her coworkers as she slowly integrated him into society and their sheer obliviousness shocked him. When he mentioned this to her, a sly, knowing smirk slid onto her face before she waved off the observation with blatant misdirection.

The feeling was more than her attractiveness, too. Despite her rather bland office attire and harsh braid, it was obvious that the petite witch was eye-catching.

"Why do you wear your hair so…stifled?" he inquired one day as she took notes on what had happened with one of the Latent children.

Pausing mid-sentence, she blinked owlishly at him as her mind jumped from the child to his non sequitur.

"Er…my hair can-at best-be described as 'bushy', Mr. Singh," she answered with furrowed brows. "It is typically in my way if left unrestrained."

And though she didn't say it-he could hear a childhood of taunts in just those two sentences. Curious now more than ever, he canted his head to the side and blatantly studied the confined locks. Giving her familiar huff, she rolled her eyes.

"You know, you could just _ask_ me if you're so curious. Like a _normal_ person."

He smirked and clasped his hands loosely behind his back. "I am superior to a normal person, Miss Granger."

Her nose wrinkled as she crossed her arms and leaned forward on her desk. "So you keep reminding me. If I let loose the bird's nest I call hair, what do I get in return?"

"My abated curiosity?" he offered. At her narrowed eyes, he relented. "I'll allow you to come to the next consultation I have with my Core Healer."

Interest brightened her eyes as she beamed. "Really? Deal! Though, I can't imagine why my hair is so interesting to you. No jokes!" she abruptly hissed, reaching for her hair-tie.

"I do not taunt my allies, Miss Granger," he stated.

Appeased, she nodded. "Fine, fine," she grumbled and then pulled the tie free.

Immediately her hair sprung out of its braid, almost like a living entity. It spilled down her back to her waist in riotous curls all shades of golden browns and caramels. Running her hands through it to shake it further out, Hermione scratched her scalp and then twisted so that he could see the back of it.

He was thankful she had turned her eyes from him for the moment. Wagering she had no idea of the picture she presented with her head thrown back and her hands clenched in her hair, he swallowed heavily.

"Satisfied?" she asked, turned back around in her seat. "I'll have to go the rest of the day with it like this, you know. One day I'm going to get around to chopping it off at my chin."

Embarrassingly, a strangled noise escaped him at that unholy pronouncement. At her look, he rolled his shoulders in what most would call a shrug.

"I could spend an age describing your hair, Miss Granger, and not once would the appellation 'bushy' make an appearance," he told her quietly.

Her eyes widened at his tone and words and then softened as a rosy hue tinted her cheeks. "That's probably the kindest thing anyone has ever said about it," she stated, tying the locks back in a hasty ponytail. At the look he sent her when the band was secure, she smiled. "You know, you _can_ call me by my given name."

Settling in the seat in front of her desk, he inclined his head. "Then you must return the favor, Hermione."

Laughing, she picked up her pen (she despised quills, she'd confided once) and leaned over her notes once more. "I have a feeling that you would be a formidable chess player."

His eyes were steady on hers. "If I were inclined to the game, which I'm not. Do you play?"

Those amber orbs turned deep, masking the secrets he _knew_ she had. "Oh, I'm much more of a Risk player, Khan."

Then, she went back to her notes, leaving him to wonder if he hadn't played right into her hand somewhere along the way.

So, yes, whatever it was that drew him to her was more than attraction. Since her first visit with his Core Healer, she'd begun to work closely with him on developing his magic potential. It struck him as odd that she worked so much with _him_ , but he was the leader of his people and had a sense of superiority that probably didn't allow for much speculation as to why anyone would want to spend time with him.

"Your magic is…something else, Khan," Hermione admitted one day while they were working in the garden of the safe-house. "You can feel it, can't you? It churns under your skin sometimes, makes you feel nearly bursting at the seams for _something_ to happen."

Watching the garden gnomes digging under the fence, he nodded. Sighing, she drew his attention as she stood from her seat on the stone bench. Worrying her lip, she seemed to come to a decision. In a move that surprised him, she pulled off her left glove and stashed it in her robe pocket. In the weeks that he'd known her, he'd never seen her without her gloves. She was always covered from her neck to her wrists and fingers and down to her knees. Scars and burns littered the skin of her hand, a testament to the War that had created him.

"Let me try something?" she asked, holding out her bare appendage.

Interested despite himself, he slid his palm over hers and then shuddered as his magic reacted almost violently. Her hand tightened and her eyes slammed closed while she began murmuring in Latin. The power coiling between them steadily built until it pounded in his ears and behind his eyes, reducing the world to the single place of his hand in hers.

Then suddenly, it snapped and flew outwards in all directions, almost powerful enough that he could _see_ it. Gasping, Hermione staggered and would have fallen, had he not caught her. Feeling a bit shaky himself, he lowered them both to the stone bench.

"What _was_ that?" he demanded when she finally pried open her eyes.

Trembling, she fumbled with her glove until she at last managed to sheath her hand. "Your magic is protective," she stuttered, her face paler than he'd ever seen and dark circles now under her eyes. "I simply directed it towards the Wards on the safe-house. You have a great potential to be a WardCrafter, Khan. With Rune Stones, you could create very powerful protection shields and Wards."

And though she seemed to be barely upright, she beamed at him. "True WardCrafting is a dying art, you know. Most casters simply use cookie-cutter spells and hexes for mediocre Wards. If you gain a Mastership, you could name your price."

Absorbing that, he arched a brow at her. "Then why do you feel I am unable to use a wand?"

"Your magic is too instinctive-too feral-for a focus like that. _Maybe_ a staff would be large enough to direct it, but I still think it would be unreliable, at best. If I had to compare it, I would point out Goblin magic. They don't use wands and seem wholly condescending of us who do. You've got a lot of savagery, Khan," she stated quietly, her words beginning to run together, "much like the race of warriors at Gringotts. Perhaps they would be better instructors for you."

When she swayed again, he frowned and steadied her. "What did you do to yourself?"

"Oh," she breathed, brown eyes widening in shock, as if she'd just realized something. "Nothing rest won't fix. Your magic needed to be directed, after all."

His eyes tightened as he helped her stand. "You will not do so in the future, if it exhausts you this much. I'll see you home."

Uncharacteristically allowing him to take charge, she leaned against him tiredly. "Not exhaust, per say. Not like you're thinking." Giggling, she stumbled, forcing him to pick her up to prevent both of them falling.

"Your magic is so _pretty_ ," she slurred, her head falling to the side of his neck as the curls that had gained their freedom covered his left arm. "It was so hard to let it go."

"Sorry?" he asked, completely bewildered at this turn of events. She was acting more intoxicated than exhausted at this point.

Head snapping up so that she could grin at him, she poked him in his chest. "Your _magic_ , Khan. Keep up, man. It liked mine too much." She went limp, letting her head hang over his arm at an uncomfortable looking angle.

His lips twitched. "You're magic-drunk," he realized.

"Sh," she tried to shush him. "Don't tell anyone."

"Why?" he laughed, flooing them both to her cottage.

"Because it's a _secret_ ," she told him, her eyes wide as he settled her on her couch.

Watching her kick off her sensible pumps and huff at her robes as she tried to get situated, he felt an unusual fluttering in the vicinity of his chest.

"Really?" he drawled, reaching over to free the rest of her curls. "What do I get for my silence?"

Her eyes suddenly focused with too much clarity on his. "I am in no shape to negotiate with the likes of you, Khan Noonien Singh," she declared.

Catching her hand, he sat on her coffee table. "Perhaps not," he agreed, "but you will. Who knows what I might let slip in the time it takes for you to recover?"

Scowling, she tugged at her hand. "Git. What," her strength fled and she gave up on retrieving her captured appendage, "what do you want?"

She seemed very small right then, with her silliness draining and only her exhaustion left in its place. Turning over her hand, the Latent traced the buttons on the back of her glove.

"I wish to know why you wear gloves," he stated softly. "You are never without them."

Rolling her neck until she met his eyes, the witch smiled bitterly. "They're spell-scarred. I'm really sensitive to touch and magic without my gloves."

Humming in acknowledgement, he cradled her hand between both of his larger. "So skin-to-skin contact is painful?"

"Overwhelming, mostly," she admitted. "But, yes, it can be painful. I've spelled my gloves to mute the effects."

Spying the Runes on the glove, Khan studied them carefully. Even he could tell there was some powerful magic woven into the garment. "So much power in such a tiny vessel," he murmured.

Snorting, she kicked at his knee with her stocking-clad foot. "Sexist."

Releasing her hand in favor of the assaulting appendage, he smirked. "It's not sexist if it's the truth. You are slight and you are powerful."

Yawning, she waved that aside. "You should go. I'm going to have a dreadful headache when I wake and the last thing I'll want to do is have company."

"You like my company," he pointed out to her, pressing his thumbs into the arch of her foot.

"Ooh, fighting dirty, Khan," she scolded. "Go home. Your magic is still calling to mine."

Relenting, he tucked her foot back onto the sofa and tugged the throw on the chair over her. "Goodnight then, little lion."

One brown orb glared balefully over the armrest at him, making him smirk.

"I'm really going to hate on you tomorrow," she grumbled as he disappeared into the floo, his laughter lingering like honey.

Her fingers flexed as she let a satisfied grin crawl onto her face. So Compatibility was more than sentimental rubbish from incense-stoned whack-jobs.

Statistically, she couldn't be right _all_ the time. Still, when she had to be wrong, it was pleasing to be so in such a beneficial manner.

Smiling to herself, she hiccupped and settled in to sleep.


	3. An Unexpected Issue

**AN:** You all have been so amazingly supportive! I've been surprised and delighted at the reception of this story. I could have gone much more in-depth with it and drawn things out, but my muse was happy with it like this. I hope you like this installment (and remember, I _do_ have a penchant for happy endings!). This part is for The White Leopard, who completely rocks my socks and has supported me through more than one of my stories.

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It wasn't until weeks later-when he quite by happenstance witnessed Agent Copper level an extremely familiar glare at Kingsley-that Khan felt comprehension strike him.

A thousand different things suddenly snapped into place for him. He had to applaud her, he mused as a slow, dangerous smile crept onto his face. Few people could have fooled him for that length of time.

Granted, he'd been extraordinarily busy with relocating and training with the Goblins, _and_ only seen Copper twice more since the first two meetings, but still. The Brightest Witch of her age, indeed. When working with Hermione, he'd found her intelligent and competent, but couldn't put his finger on why he felt she was so interesting. Realizing her true role in the Ministry left him rather _more_ than interested.

Golden eyes turned away from the Minister and met his. At his expression, wry acknowledgement flashed in her orbs. Nevertheless, she strolled over to him as if _she_ were still holding all the cards-as if he'd just neatly danced to her tune exactly as she wished. It should have infuriated him—not sent a bolt of heat straight to his center.

"You live up to your reputation yet again," she stated, a smile in her voice as she dropped the distorting spell. " _No one_ has connected those particular dots, Mr. Singh. I find myself wondering what you will do with the information."

Chuckling lowly, he watched her with steady eyes. "I shall savor it for the moment. Alas, I have been warned to stay out of your wand-sight, Agent." His lids fell to half-mast, propelling his satisfied stare into something decidedly sultry as his pupils dilated. "Such a valuable ally is worth protecting, don't you think?"

The corners of her eyes crinkled as the golden orbs danced. "That is what you do best, isn't it? Or are you really asking where you fit into my plans?"

He gave an almost elegant shrug. "I can guess, witch. The Latents feel strongly in your debt and you have placed us in very strategic locations in very particular occupations. Kingsley has no idea how much of his power is yours, does he?"

Taking his arm, she apparated them to the flat he'd bought in London. Pulling off her head-covering, she smirked.

"Of what are you accusing me? I have done nothing illegal. Even should my dual roles be revealed, I have always acted within the law. People will applaud my tireless work." She sneered. "The Golden Girl of the Golden Trio who won't stop fighting Voldemort until every last death eater is brought to justice. It'll be worth another biography or two."

Blue eyes brightened with respect and want. "I'm accusing you of doing what Voldemort could not: shaping the wizarding world as you see fit."

Scoffing, she waved that off by yanking up her left sleeve. Above the edge of her glove, the word 'mudblood' was carved crudely into her skin, making him hiss. He'd learned quickly of the prejudice that had begun and perpetuated the Blood Wars.

" _This_ is how Voldemort chose to persuade me to his side. As you can tell, such tactics are useless against any powerbase's true opposition. I use what I have to achieve what I want without people ever realizing I was even involved."

Between one breath and the next, Khan had her pinned to the wall, ravaging her mouth. She shocked him by submitting easily, allowing the magic in his blood to stir and reach for hers.

Pulling away, he stared hard into her, seemingly down to the depths of her soul. "You've been manipulating me, witch," he growled. "From that first time in Albania, you've been using me."

"I haven't used you, _yet_ ," she purred in reply. "Besides, what have I done that has been in any way unbeneficial to you and your people?" Her face hardened. "I find that I am underestimated by _everyone_ , Khan. Are you angry because I bested you, or that you fell into that trap yourself?"

"It's the eyes," he decided. "Your bleeding-heart eyes and your tight little braid. You look like a kitten with cotton-candy claws and you damned well perpetuate the notion, don't you?"

Laughing, she bit her lip and blinked up at him innocently. "And what about you? I know whose charm has been flashed at certain powerful Wizengamot witches. I know who just happens to be at the right pub when the Department Heads stop by to have a pint after work." Smirking, she ran a finger under his collar. "Your bedroom eyes focused on those biddies and your shirt just happening to define these abs. You look like sex incarnate, Khan, and you know it."

A deep chuckle rumbled in his chest as he released her. "Well played, Miss Granger. I do have to ask: why 'Copper'?"

Leaning against the wall, her hair disheveled and her mouth swollen, she was temptation herself. "What do I get in return?"

"Always a negotiation," he drawled, "and this time, I asked nicely."

Grinning, she shrugged. "Oh, one day maybe I'll even get you to say 'please'."

"I can beg," he told her huskily, "if given the right incentive."

The words combined with the slow once-over he gave her, had the witch forcibly stopping herself from shifting with want. She was playing with fire and she couldn't remember a time when she'd had this much fun.

Rolling her eyes, she pushed away from the wall. "Fine, fine. Keep it in your pants, Romeo. I have a few things you need to know before you go bedding _anyone_ from the wizarding world."

Pausing, she blinked worriedly. "You haven't, have you? Seriously, I know that's a huge breech of privacy to ask, but it's important."

Arching a brow, he shook his head. "As if I've had the time, or inclination. As you so aptly stated-those witches I've been charming are 'biddies'. Though, to be fair, you know how much power attracts me."

Unable to help it, she covered her mouth and giggled. "Stop, that's horrible. Okay, good, that saves a whole slew of problems that could have arisen."

Before he could ask, a copper colored fox was suddenly sitting in front of him where Hermione had just been. Blinking twice, he watched as golden orbs focused on him.

"Hermione?" he questioned as the canine trotted over to him.

She yipped and turned in a circle before changing back to her human form.

"You're an animagus," the Latent realized.

The pleased expression on her face was enough of an answer. Shaking himself, he dropped onto his sofa and ran a hand down his face.

"Care to explain why I shouldn't be having sex, then?"

When he raised his gaze back to her, he was astonished to see a blush heating her cheeks. Well, well. He'd thought her modesty might have been all a ruse. Nice to know that it hadn't been. She'd just had a great deal more depth than he'd mentally given to her.

"That…er, this is going in my journal as the most embarrassing conversation I've ever had to endure," she huffed, crossing her arms. "And that is including the one I had to have with Harry and Ron about _why_ it was a good idea to get their girls off first."

A laugh escaped him at her genuine discomfort. "Unless you're going to tell me I need to remain celibate in order to use magic, I think I can handle it." He paused. "You keep a journal?"

Scowling, she flung herself into the chair across from him. "No, you git." Taking a breath, she pinched her nose and closed her eyes. "What do you know about Compatibility? Magical Compatibility?"

Canting his head, he tried to recall if he'd ever heard the term. "I'm not familiar with the term."

Blowing out a harsh breath, she nodded. "It was worth a shot. Give me a moment."

Standing, she moved to his fireplace and flooed to her house. A few minutes later, she was back with an armload of parchment and books, which she dropped beside him on the sofa.

"There. Just-read the passages I've marked. I've brought the notes I've made on the subject, too. Floo me when you finish."

And then, she was gone. Khan was left staring at a stack of research wondering what could have scared the most formidable person he knew.

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* * *

Three days later, Hermione tiredly trudged in her front door and hung up her cloak. A rippling of her magic, made her head snap up and her wand drop instinctively into her hand. Spotting the familiar shape sprawled elegantly on her couch, however, made her relax.

"Khan, what the Hell are you doing sitting in the dark?" she growled. "I nearly took off your head, you idiot."

Instead of getting a rise from him, her barb merely made him narrow his eyes. "Your Wards are acceptable, my dear, but still penetrable."

Scoffing, she kicked off her shoes and walked over to collapse into her recliner. "My Wards are fantastic for everyone who is not a WardsCrafter. Besides, you know they're set to allow you entrance."

Making a noncommittal noise, he studied her as she tipped back her head and rested her eyes. There were dark circles on her face that were from more than lack of sleep. Even her hair seemed subdued.

"What's happened?" He asked quietly.

With a sigh, she looked at him and then flicked her wand to start the fire. "Trouble with a few of the Augments."

Her attention drifted to the flames as she drew her feet under her. "You know, all my plans and manipulations and fighting…I just want my world _better_. I just want people not to be scared anymore. I want muggle-borns to be able to have that sense of wonder when introduced to our world without worrying about belonging. I want pure-bloods to have a choice in their beliefs and I want other magical beings to be treated with respect."

Resting her chin on her fist, she smiled faintly. "I'm so _tired_."

Silently, he rose and scooped her off her chair only to settle her beside him on the couch. Her face was awash with confusion as she watched him, but she shifted easily into his side. Reaching down, he flicked open the first button of her right glove.

"Khan," she scolded, drawing the appendage away from his nimble fingers.

When she looked up into his too-blue eyes, her breath caught. His magic was shining from them as it pulsed between them. Fascinated, she held her peace as he effortlessly and gently stripped her gloves from her hands.

"I studied your research," he murmured, setting her gloves on the side-table and not touching her bared hands.

"Oh?" she replied faintly, so, so nervous at the blatant authority he was displaying. With a look, he had her stilling and allowing him liberties she'd never allow _anyone_. Even her mother left her gloves alone.

Meeting her eyes again, he smiled. "Yes, 'oh'. I found it fascinating and quite enlightening about a number of things, as I'm sure you're aware. However, I did go to another source for more clarification."

That grabbed her attention. "Who? You didn't explain _why_ you needed the information did you?" she nearly screeched.

Wincing, he leveled a frown at her tone, making her blush and mumble an apology. "You mistake me for those bumbling fools you call coworkers, Hermione," he chastised. "I made a few discrete inquiries with the Goblins."

As if a cold bucket of water had been dumped on her, Hermione sat up and gaped. "The Goblins? That's brilliant! Oh, Khan, and you're working for them, so you could legitimately stand a chance of them helping you!"

A pleased smile pulled up his lips. "Quite a bit more than a chance, actually. They were very helpful. Family and clan is everything to Goblin culture after all. They have a version of what wizards call Compatibility themselves."

Shifting to face him, she shoved her robes out of the way and leaned forward eagerly. "Well? What did you learn?"

Reaching out, he tugged her braid loose and watched as her curls erupted into freedom. "I doubt I'll ever tire of seeing that. You have gorgeous hair."

Blushing, she tilted back and wrinkled her nose. "Honestly, Khan."

With a chuckle, he surrendered and settled into the crook of the furniture. "It's powerful magic; some of the oldest. The Goblins have stories of ancient ages where two beings' magic merely had to come in contact for them to be bonded. It's been mostly lost over time due to disbelief and impatience. After all, wizarding marriages have a magical element to them. The couple's magic would not bind them to another-even their True Complement-if they had already been magically bound through marriage. Gradually, wizards' magic stopped searching because of that."

"But, it still exists?"

"Oh, yes. Goblins base their entire society on it. It is much rarer for a Goblin to _not_ marry his True Complement than the opposite. They simply must work harder to recognize each other."

Biting her lip again, she let her eyes take in his relaxed, almost lazy sprawl. She would have been fooled by it, had she not been so aware of his magic sliding against her own. He was every inch a predator and _she_ was decidedly in his sights.

"That explains a great deal about their culture," she agreed, her eyes not leaving his face. "Are you planning on consummating our Compatibility in order to further your ambitions?"

One side of his mouth hitched up at her bald question. "Partly, aren't you?"

At her narrowing eyes, he smiled fully. "I find you to be the most fascinating creature I have ever met and the only person with any hope of keeping up with me." Shifting toward her, he held out a hand and motioned to her ungloved ones. At her blanch, he softened and held out both of his. "Trust me."

Meeting his gaze, she slowly nodded and tentatively slid her bare palms over his. Her breath hitched as his magic rose between them, engulfing her protectively and washing away the distress of her job. Shuddering, she closed her eyes and let her head drop to his chest. Smiling against her hair, he maneuvered her hands into one of his and cupped the back of her neck. A healing and bolstering warmth spread through her, nearly bringing tears to her eyes.

"Protective magic, remember?" he whispered to her. "I find your magic to be a blade of beauty, Miss Granger. Have you need of a shield?"

Choking a laugh, she raised her head. "Did you just propose to me using a weapons metaphor?"

Arching a brow, he smirked, but remained silent. Squeezing his fingers gently, she nodded.

"Yeah, I could do with a shield," she agreed quietly.

Letting his hands slide up her arms, he pulled her to him and kissed her deeply.

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* * *

Hermione woke close to dawn and stretched, blinking when her skin slid against skin that was decidedly not her own. Glancing to her left, she grinned at finding Khan still asleep. She resisted the urge to run her fingers through his hair-having learned not to do that unless she wanted to start another round of love-making with him. But, who knew that without his meticulous care his hair would spring into lovely curls that surrounded his face like a cherubic halo? Merlin, she could fall in love with his hair alone. It was no wonder he always professionally slicked it back, though. If he left it natural, he would quite literally be too gorgeous for those around him to do anything but stare.

Rolling her eyes at her own mushy thoughts, she held up her right wrist and studied the pale white bracelet that had appeared the moment their consummation was complete. Khan had one similar on his left wrist. They were the equivalent of wedding bands in the wizarding world. Theirs were pure white-with no blemishes or disruptions in the circle and rested snugly against their arms. They weren't constricting, for which she was glad, and they were absolutely beautiful.

Rolling onto her side, Hermione nudged her new husband. Without stirring from his sleep, he immediately shifted to pull her against his chest. Sighing with near-giddiness, she tangled her legs with his and just listened to the steady beat of his heart. It was almost too much for her-this seemingly fairytale ending after all she'd endured since joining the wizarding world. She couldn't help feeling that the other shoe was about to drop.

"I can feel your thoughts churning," Khan sleepily admonished, stroking her back. "It will be all right, I promise."

"I haven't even told you the latest development," she whispered, looking up at him.

He sniffed dismissively. "Did you know that witches are actually more powerful at dueling than wizards?"

Brows furrowing, Hermione shook her head.

Khan nodded, his face still slack from sleep. "As a whole, of course. Wizards are more powerful at shielding. It's one reason witches are traditionally left with the children in a war. Tactically, you place your most powerful weapons with your most precious possessions. However, should a witch and a wizard-let's say True Complements-go into battle together, their prowess is unrivalled."

"Because one is casting powerful shields and the other is focused on offensive maneuvers," she realized, understanding where he was going with his seemingly random bits of information.

"So, you worry for me needlessly," he murmured. "You happen to have married a Master Wardscrafter."

Laughing wetly, she snuggled back into his arms. "I still am completely impressed at the speed of your Mastery. Even the Goblins were thrown for a loop."

A smug smile was her answer as he returned to his sleep, satisfied that she would soon follow. Hermione eyed him a moment, almost wishing she would get up and do something else, just to spoil his arrogance. Sleep pulled at her insistently, though, and with Khan's magic cradling her like glass, she was gone before she realized.

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* * *

Looking back, that was their last true time of peace. Once they woke, they ate, changed and went to work as usual. What followed, however set events into motion that would come close to wiping out all life on Earth at worst and setting them into another Dark Age at best.

The thirteen Augments were proving more trouble than the Ministry had anticipated. Though both Khan and Hermione had advocated killing them, Kingsley had been reluctant. Amelia had hesitantly agreed that she could see his point in that the Latents had integrated with the wizarding world so well it was possible the Augments would too, given the chance. That aside, however, the Director had been quite adamant that Khan would know his people best. She'd even talked to some of the older Latents about the situation. Nearly all of them had agreed with their leader.

Kingsley was tired of war. Having the Latents move passed their traumatic origins to become active, upstanding members of their world had given him hope he desperately needed. Once the Ministry had spun up the story with the slant Hermione had given the Latents' origins, the public had rallied around them. They became poster-children for surviving the atrocities of the Blood Wars. Bringing home the Augments would further show that the wizarding world was well and truly in a new age.

Unfortunately, the Augments disagreed with the notion. As Khan had stated, those thirteen were the culls of Phase III. They were only too happy to take on positons of power where they had always been denied. They were everything Amelia had feared Phase III Augments would be.

Hitwizards and witches were sent after them, to capture if they could. Amelia had made it clear, however, that if the wizard's or witch's life was on the line, permanent measures were authorized.

Four of them went down in a blaze of spellfire and one more was able to be brought back to the Ministry. After speaking to the belligerent psychopath, Kingsley had been shown the reality of the situation. It came too late, though, when half of a hitwizard team returned, nearly unconscious. The wizards were taken immediately to St. Mungos. When the only survivor recovered, he related how the fifth Augment had gotten the drop on them and managed to kill his partner.

Alerted to the threat now facing them-even if they were unaware of its origins-the Augments set out to build powerbases against each other.

The Eugenics Wars began soon after.

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* * *

"Listen to me!" Hermione banged on the table. " _Listen to me!"_

Immediately, the room quieted, Khan, Amelia, Kingsley and Harry turning to her. Breathing heavily, she nodded and crossed her arms.

"There is an alternative."

Harry ran a hand through his hair. "Hermione, I'm not sure you understand what we're dealing with here."

The hard amber glare that she turned on him had him buttoning his mouth. "Shut up, Harry. You're the one that barged into a sequestered meeting. Do you think I arrived her the same way?"

Blushing, he held up his hand in surrender. "Sorry."

"We've managed to take out six of the Augments leading this, but the others have amassed armies in record times. So far we've not had a breach of secrecy, but we can all agree that it is only a matter of time if things progress as they have in the past year."

Khan pressed the tips of his fingers together on the table. "They have increased their security exponentially. Though the seven remaining are the weakest of us, they are still far above muggles. Magic aside, they are superior to wizards as well. If they find someone to teach them to harness their latent magic, the results could be disastrous."

"I wasn't aware they had enough to cause concern," Amelia stated with alarm. "You claim that the Latents are the stronger group and some of you cannot tap any part of your core."

Khan tipped his head to her in agreement. "I don't believe they do, but as I've learned, Dark Magic can enable many things that should not to be. Should the wrong witch or wizard get it into his or her fool head to help the traitors, I shudder at what will be unleashed."

Completely blindsided, Harry sat down. "Wait, wait, what? I have a feeling I'm only hearing half of what is being said. What do the Augments have to do with the Latents?"

Hermione glanced to Khan and Kingsley before answering her friend. "Harry, the Augments were reared in the same facility as the Latents, only they were sold before we could save them. They think they've been genetically gifted for warfare. Voldemort's minions completely brainwashed them and then unleashed them upon the muggle world."

Gaping, he turned wide emerald eyes on the Minister, who nodded sadly. "I tried, Harry. We all tried to save them afterwards. They truly believe they have no other purpose but war."

Khan scoffed. "Don't sugar-coat it, Minister. They _want_ no purpose but war. They were the bottom of the food chain in Albania. Now that they've gotten a taste of power, they will not relinquish it."

Harry closed his mouth and took off his glasses to rub his eyes tiredly. "Let me get this straight. Voldemort began capturing squibs and experimenting on them trying everything from spell creation to selective breeding for perfect soldiers. He manages to create thirteen super strong soldiers who believe it's their divine purpose in life to create war and then sells them to the highest bidder in the muggle world."

Amelia confirmed that with a hard 'yes'.

"Why?"

Hermione met his eyes. "Money for one thing. It takes a lot of financial backing to launch a war. And, he wasn't just going to stop when he seized Britain, Harry. He was going to march on the world. We've found hundreds of cells all over the world that were part of his network. If he hadn't been so obsessed with killing you, we would have been in trouble. For all his insanity, Riddle was a genius."

Clenching his jaw, the Boy-Who-Lived nodded reluctantly.

"Cannon fodder, for another," Khan drawled. "He wanted the muggle world in chaos. It is much easier to have someone else do the dirty work and waltz in after they've all killed themselves."

Wincing, Harry looked to Kingsley. "So, I gather that these armies you mentioned are not just a bunch of guys at a pub talking out their arses."

The Minister shook his head. "No. Whole armies, Harry. While the Augments alone we could bring down in single combat, we can't in front of a world of muggles. Khan may say these are the culls, but they are charismatic. People are flocking to them. North Africa was horrific and I don't want to talk about the reports from what is left of Peru."

"You had an idea, Hermione?" Amelia asked, shakily sipping her lukewarm tea.

Taking Khan's hand, Hermione set her shoulders. "We cannot fight them out in the open as magicals. We _can_ fight them as muggles."

Kingsley scowled. "You read the reports, Hermione. The Americans dropped nuclear warheads on Peru when the country fell and the Augment's army began marching up the continent. They nearly destroyed half the continent and the Augment _still_ managed to survive. They stopped the army, granted, but have sealed themselves off from the rest of the world now. You can bet that the Augment will be gunning for them next and they know it."

The witch met his eyes without flinching. "I am aware, Minister. Think about it this way. Those Augments are very aware of who was the strongest." Pausing, she slid a sly look to Amelia. "Remind me who was the strongest, Director Bones?"

Realization washed over the older witch's face as her eyes darted to Khan. "Khan, of course."

"Exactly. Everyone who was in that pit knows and respects Khan. If he emerges as an Augment Leader carving out his own place in the world…"

The Minister sat down sharply. "You mean to gather the global magical community in one place."

Harry rubbed the back of his neck and looked at Khan cautiously. He'd known the guy for a while now and honestly liked him after he'd gotten passed the arrogance. To find out he was more or less top dog of a group of people Voldemort hoped to unleash upon the muggle world was disturbing. It also might save them. Khan was married to Hermione in the most profound way possible, after all and if there was anyone he trusted it was she.

"Make it seem like Khan took over and set up his boundaries," the wizard continued. "It'd look muggle and would keep the rest of the Augments from ferreting us out. It just might be what saves the wizarding world."

"You're forgetting that they will not accept my claims for long," Khan drawled. "Eventually, they will test me and we will be forced to retaliate. Brutally. Power is the only thing they understand. Either one has it or one doesn't. Anything else is useless triviality."

"There is no good or evil," Harry quoted, going pale. "There is only power and those too weak to seek it."

At their looks, he took a deep breath. "It's something Voldemort drove into Quirrell who felt the need to pass along to me."

"We need to discuss what happens _after_ as well," Hermione stated softly, reaching over to touch Harry's arm in support. "Eventually, the Eugenics Wars will end one way or the other. If we're not all destroyed and somehow we stop the Augments, Khan and those who help him will be viewed as the rest of the Augments. They will be tried and convicted for war crimes and probably made an example to the public. If we go this route, Khan is forfeiting his life." She met his eyes and smiled. "We're forfeiting our lives," she corrected.

Amelia made a distressed noise as she caught the thread. "We cannot tell the rest of the magic community exactly what is happening. Only that Khan received aid from the wizarding world and is benevolent to us."

"What about the other Latents?" Kingsley asked quietly.

Khan's face gave nothing away. "They are in agreement."

"Isn't there something else we can do?" Harry demanded. "We can go underground. Hell, if we can get them alone, I'll be happy to end the fuckers and let the obliviators handle the muggles."

The Latent leaned forward, ignoring his wife's cry of 'Language, Harry!'

"You have a point, Harry. If things get bad enough, muggles will overlook the most extraordinary things if it benefits them. Who cares how the tyrant died as long as he did? It will be one more mystery lost to history."

And, it would have worked…had several of the Augments not met up with Voldemort's lingering cells.

In the end, Warded against magical threats and muggles, the Augments were beyond single hitwizard reach. Unless the wizarding world was prepared to march en mass on them, other avenues were needed to survive.

"We could just tell them!" Harry exclaimed later, the bags under his eyes a testament to his average sleepless night.

"And then what, Harry?" Amelia snapped. "Right now, the muggles think that these supermen have invaded and taken over their world. Our people think Voldemort is reaching out from the grave. Do you really believe that once the Augments are destroyed that either side will trust the other enough to live and let live?"

Kingsley shook his head. "No, the muggles will turn on us next. _Especially_ if they learn that Voldemort was behind the Augments in the first place. We have no choice."

When he turned to Khan, Harry would swear to his dying day that a light went out of the Latent's eyes. A hardness settled over him and the charismatic friend he'd come to appreciate transformed into a _soldier_. Raw power coiled about him as he gave a sharp nod to Kingsley.

The band of their decision around Harry's heart tightened at the slight softening of Khan's eyes as he met Hermione's.

"True commitment requires sacrifice," he told her quietly.

Straightening her shoulders, she stood with him, sliding into her 'Agent Copper' persona Harry had taken to calling it since learning of her dual roles. And his heart broke at the knowledge that even if she survived the coming years, he'd just seen Hermione Granger die.

* * *

 **AN: Credit:** I read something similar about the wizard/witch shield/sword thing in a Draco/Hermione story. Unfortunately, I cannot for the life of me remember which story or who wrote it. I thought it was a lovely thought and would love to give credit to whichever author wrote it. (The story had to do with Draco and Lucius seeing Hermione kick butt in a spell-fight.) Yes, well, there you have it.

One more chapter to go. Bum bum buuummm!


	4. An Unexpected Future (Epilogue)

**AN:** I apologize for this being delayed. I had a rather dramatic flight to the ER after collapsing last week and haven't felt up to doing anything lately. (It should be noted, however, that my awesome husband tore through a baby gate and near-teleported up the stairs to catch me before I toppled head-first down them. Had I been an outside observer, I would wondered what movie I had stumbled into. Nice guys are so under-rated, ladies. Love that man.)

But, enough about my woes-on with the final chapter! There is a lot of dialogue taken directly from the movie and a lot that I've moved about or paraphrased. Be warned. This is just about tying up loose ends and second chances. Just go with it, yeah? Hope you like it!

* * *

"I want him _terminated_ ," the Admiral snarled, striding away from a bewildered Captain James T. Kirk. "That man is dangerous in the highest sense, Captain. Not only is he responsible for blowing up the Archives, but five seconds earlier and he would have had my head! The _Enterprise_ is hauling those warheads to the deep space station for dismantling and redistribution. My contacts indicate that he is heading toward a moon on the outer realm of the neutral zone. Handle it and the _Enterprise_ is yours again."

Snapping to a salute, Kirk agreed hastily. Drop off some bombs? Check. Stop bad guy? Check. Get his ship? Check and check.

"You can count on me, sir."

"Excellent. Move out. Reports indicate that Harrison's next target was Pike. Thank God his plans were aborted."

Pausing at the door, Kirk fisted his hands in his hat at that news. Filing it away, he strode from the room.

* * *

It was only later, when Harrison was screaming 'How many warheads?' at him frantically and then taking out a freaking entire patrol of Klingons that Kirk began to suspect something might be amiss. Throwing on his uniform in the lift and wondering how in the Hell Spock had talked him out of killing the guy that was going to kill Pike, Kirk smirked at how much he'd missed this insanity.

"Okay," he snarled, glaring at the smug bastard sitting like leashed malice in his cell, "let me explain what's happening here. You are a _criminal_. I was authorized to _end_ you and the only reason why you are still alive is because I am allowing it. So _shut your mouth."_

Harrison arched a brow where anyone else would have sneered. "Captain, are you going to punch me again? Over and over until your arm weakens? Clearly you want to. So, tell me, why did you allow me to live?"

Narrowing his eyes, Kirk held back his fury as he tried to puzzle out this man's angle. "We all make mistakes," he spat.

"I surrendered to you because, despite your attempt to convince me otherwise, you seem to have a conscience, Mr. Kirk. If you did not, then it would be impossible for me to convince you of the truth. 23174611. Coordinates not far from Earth. If you want to know why I did what I did, go take a look."

Glancing to Spock, Kirk mentally shrugged and took the bait. "Give me one reason why I should listen to you."

Immediately Harrison stood. "I can give you seventy-one. And they're on board your ship, Captain. They have been, all along."

And, if they thought this couldn't get any freakier, Bones pulled a freaking human out of that warhead. And, they found a freaking Death Star. It galled Kirk to once more be forced to go to Harrison for answers.

"Why is there a man in that torpedo?"

Harrison turned to face him stoically. "There are men and women in all those torpedoes, Captain. I put them there."

Running a hand down his face, Kirk tried to bat down his absolute fed-up-with-you fury. "Who the Hell are you?" he finally demanded.

"A remnant of a time long past. I led others to peace in a world at war. My family and friends were condemned as criminals, forced into exile. For centuries we slept, hoping when we awoke things would be different." The prisoner's face tightened. "But, as a result of the destruction of Vulcan, your Starfleet begun to aggressively search distant quadrants of space. My ship was found adrift. I alone was revived."

Kirk crossed his arms. "I looked up John Harrison. Until a year ago, he didn't exist."

Blue eyes were mocking. "'John Harrison' was a fiction created the moment I was awoken by your Admiral Marcus to help him advance his cause; a smokescreen to conceal my true identity. My name is Khan."

Shaking his head, Kirk wondered just what in the Hell he had landed in this time. "Why would a Starfleet admiral ask a three-hundred-year-old frozen man for help?"

Khan's face was impassive and that lent his answer a weight neither Kirk or Spock was comfortable with.

"Because I am better."

Blinking, the captain cleared his throat. "At what?"

"Everything." There was only seriousness in the reply, a steadfast assurance that he was, in fact superior. "Alexander Marcus needed to respond to an uncivilized threat in a civilized time and for that, he needed a warrior's mind-my mind-to design weapons and warships. He just didn't know the truth of the Eugenics Wars."

Spock raised a brow. "You are suggesting the Admiral violated every regulation he vowed to uphold, simply because he wanted to exploit your intellect?"

Snarling, Khan turned a condescending glare at the Vulcan. "He wanted to exploit what he viewed as my savagery. Intellect alone is useless in a fight, Mr. Spock. You, you can't even break a rule-how can you be expected to break bone?"

Turning away, the man lightly clasped his left wrist, drawing Kirk's attention to what appeared to be a white bracelet. Huh, he thought all metal had been removed from Khan when he'd been put behind the 'field.

"Marcus used me to design weapons. I helped him realize his vision of a militarized Starfleet. He sent you to use those weapons-to fire my torpedoes on an unsuspecting planet and then he purposely crippled your ship in enemy space leading to one inevitable outcome: the Klingons would come searching for whoever was responsible and you would have no chance of escape. Marcus would finally have the war he talked about-the war he always wanted."

Meeting Spock's eyes, Kirk read the message there: they were fucked.

"You blew up a building full of unarmed Starfleet officers. You killed them in cold blood."

Confusion briefly flickered in Khan's eyes. "I blew up Marcus' flat and sabotaged a number of directives in an attempt to get my crew to safety. I care nothing for Starfleet, only the wellbeing of my people. I was discovered after I realized Marcus had separated…separated one of my crew from the rest. I was forced to flee, alone. I had every reason to suspect Marcus killed every single one of the people I hold most dear. Every one, save the person he isolated."

Kirk moved toward the force field and motioned with his chin to Khan's arm, trying to ignore the twinge of compassion the man's speech had stirred. "What's that?" Taking a field disrupter that would make an arm-size hole in the force field, Kirk silently commanded Khan to stick his left arm through. Reluctantly, he complied.

Spock drifted over to see what had drawn Kirk's attention. "Fascinating," he stated. "I've not encountered such a metal."

The captain nodded. "Yeah, what is it?"

Pulling back his arm, Khan clasped the band with his right hand. "Nothing you'll likely encounter again." His eyes, so cold just moments ago, were anguished when he looked at the band. "As I stated, however, Marcus separated one of my crew. If he is blackmailing her, then your Starfleet is in grave peril, Captain. She is as intelligent as I and far, far more vindictive."

"Okay, let's back this up a bit from where we got sidetracked. You seem to have a different story than official reports back home," Kirk pointed out. "Are you saying you _didn't_ blow up the Archive Building?"

"Don't be absurd," Khan scoffed. "Why would I…oh, yes, I see. The Archive Building in London-an _esteemed_ Section 31 building, Captain."

Kirk scowled. "Section 31 is a myth."

"Really?" the Augment drawled clasping his hands behind his back and leaning forward. "What am I, but a myth? What do you truly know about the Eugenics Wars, Mr. Kirk?" A haunted expression flickered in his eyes. "I did what was necessary then to keep my family and my people safe from seven demons straight out of Hell itself. History forgot the heroes of that time and what were the villains but monsters in fairytales told to errant children too fascinated with petri dishes?" Turning away, he stared at the far wall. "I've seen things you can't begin to imagine-trained with a race of beings you would dismiss as the rantings of a madman-and been saved by an angel with Wolves at her side and hope in her pocket. A covert secret cell of a multi-world organization? That's too be _expected,_ Captain."

Stepping back, Kirk motioned to Spock and barked a curt order at the lift as the doors closed. "Why do I get the feeling that guy isn't as insane as he sounds?"

Spock raised a brow. "There was no insanity in him, Captain. What I saw was something very old and very human."

Kirk nodded. "And the chick he was talking about?"

"Someone very important to him-perhaps the most important." The Vulcan met his Captain's gaze seriously. "And that makes him more dangerous than anything else. He knows that we will not kill his crew but he does not know where the missing woman is."

"We're sitting ducks," Kirk spat and cursed.

That was about the time that the situation went down the toilet.

* * *

Khan watched the captain storm over to the controls of his prison.

"Marcus is demanding your presence," he glowered. "I don't know what the Hell is going on here, but if you're telling the truth, I'll help you any way I can to clear your people. Right now, though, I need your help."

When Khan walked onto the Bridge, Marcus smirked at him. "My wayward toy. Outlived his usefulness, as you can see."

Kirk glared. "You wanted to see him. We're taking him back for a real trial, as Starfleet protocol demands. Now release us."

Marcus dismissed him, his attention remaining on Khan. "I believe I have someone you no doubt wish to see, Mr. Singh."

Spock watched as Khan's muscles tightened when the Admiral snapped his fingers to something off-screen. Two large men marched a petite woman over to stand beside the Admiral. She was a beautiful woman in her own right, but it was the aura of power around her that held the room spell-bound. The effect on Khan, however, was immediate. His tension faded and he adopted an almost smug demeanor.

"Hello, Hermione," he greeted.

The woman inclined her head, but said nothing. The Admiral fingered the braid of her long hair, sneering when neither Khan nor Hermione reacted.

"Quite the reputation your little bird has, Khan. Rumor has it she was your right hand during the Wars. She may even be as smart as you on weapons design."

Khan laughed; the sound so cruel and mocking that it sent a chill down Kirk's spine. The blue of his eyes turned to ice and the smell of ozone filled the air as his power coalesced.

"You fool. You should have let her sleep."

Hermione's pink lips pulled tight over white teeth as she snarled an agreement. The screen went blank, but the audio remained, sounding the terrible and horrific death-screams of the _Vengeance_ 's crew. It was perhaps more gruesome _because_ they couldn't see what exactly was happening.

"You sick, perverted _bastard_ ," a female growled, sending everyone's hair standing on end. "Khan is the _nice_ one. Be glad I don't have the time I wish to make you repent of your sins against him."

"I demand," Marcus began shakily and then erupted into more screams.

"You are in a position to demand _nothing_. I, on the other hand, am in a position to _grant_ nothing."

"Hermione," Khan drawled finally, "are you playing with your prey?"

The speakers squealed with static a moment before the woman simply appeared on the Bridge with a crack. As soon as her eyes landed on Khan, her façade crumbled and she burst into tears. In two quick strides he was in front of her and sweeping her into his arms. Sobbing, she wrapped herself around him, trembling from head to boot.

"Oh God, oh God," she cried, "I woke up and I thought you were dead."

"I almost had us out until he separated you from the group," Khan told her, holding to her desperately. "They're safe. I kept my promise."

Drawing back, she beamed brilliantly at him and cupped his cheeks. Khan closed his eyes and leaned into her hands.

"I knew you would," she swore.

"Excuse me," Kirk broke in, seeing that the happy reunion had calmed somewhat, "I don't mean to break into what's obviously a several hundred years old reunion, but what the Hell just happened?"

The woman-Hermione-smirked and leaned against Khan. "The _USS Vengeance_ is all yours, Captain."

Uhura swallowed thickly. "And the crew?"

"All trussed up like turkeys," she answered with a wink. "I _might_ have been a bit rough on them. Did you get Marcus' little monologue on record?"

Spock nodded. "Of course." Relieved that she hadn't actually killed the crew-despite being extremely justified-the commander began preparing a team to board the other ship.

Kirk stopped at Khan's side and looked at his hand clasping Hermione's. Matching white bracelets were on their wrists. Meeting the man's eyes, he arched a brow.

"I thought I wasn't likely to see that metal again?" he smirked.

Khan gave him a small smile as Hermione caught onto what they were talking about. "Not see one again…Khan Noonien Singh! Did you even tell him what these are? Who _I_ am?"

Heaving a sigh, he rolled his eyes. "Of course I didn't. I had to maneuver the entire situation from a _jail cell_ , witch. Pleading with them to find my wife was not going to do anything but garner me varying looks of pity!"

Mollified, Hermione offered a polite nod to Kirk. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Captain. I'm Hermione Granger, Khan's wife."

Kirk could only boggle at her, his gaze jumping from the small powerful woman to the intimidating man at her side.

Khan's eyes flashed when he noticed she hadn't offered her hand to the captain. "Where are your gloves?" he demanded.

Blanching, she dropped her gaze. "They took them from me when I was still disoriented from coming out of stasis."

Blue eyes snapped to the captain. "She needs gloves."

Glancing to where her hands were clasped in front of her, he could see that they were riddled with scars and burns. Before he could agree, Hermione huffed.

"I can get my own, now that I don't have to worry about the skeaze-bucket."

Khan's face tightened. "Hermione, we are on a starship in the middle of outer space. If you short out the ship, my shields will only be able to sustain you for a few minutes."

Wrinkling her nose, she silently let him know what she thought of that. "I wouldn't do it in front of muggles, anyway."

"I have no idea what has been happening since we left Earth," Bones grumbled from the side.

"He is their doctor, Hermione," Khan told her. "Perhaps he should examine you."

Reluctantly, she nodded and turned large, golden eyes on the man. Coughing, Bones jerked his head in agreement.

"Come on, then. We'll check you out while they sort this mess."

"Khan!" Kirk called before he stepped after his wife.

Looking over his shoulder in question, the taller man waited.

"I'm sorry," he gritted out, "about the-uh-repetitive hitting."

A real smile bloomed on his face. "Captain, you ensured that my wife and family were returned to me safe and whole. I believe we'll call it even."

Relieved, Kirk grinned and watched the couple leave. He was startled when the view-screen crackled to life and Spock was hailing him from the _Vengeance_.

"Captain, though the crew did sustain a few broken bones and minor other injuries, nothing here would support the kind of screams we heard while Khan's crewman was here."

At the name 'Khan' they all began shrieking in unison, startling even Spock. Brows drawing together, the Vulcan turned to the bound prisoners and studied them.

"I believe Doctor McCoy's presence may be necessary."

A vindictive idea hit Kirk then. "What? You need Khan?" Wails and screams. "Or Hermione?" Absolute insanity-inducing terror.

Looking back at the captain, Spock frowned. "I believe you heard me, Captain. Spock out."

Uhura's eyes met his as she shifted. "Is it a good idea to provoke them like that?"

Kirk shot her a disbelieving look. "Uhura, they jacked a man from stasis, held his family hostage so he'd build them a Dreadnought-class warship, woke his wife just to torment him and blackmail her, killed tons of innocent people, sabotaged my _ship_ and tried to _kill_ _everyone_ on board. As far as I'm concerned, pee-inducing trigger words are them getting off easy."

Snorting, she shook her head.

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* * *

Much, much later, when Hermione and Khan were surrounded by friends and family once more, she leaned into him. He wrapped an arm around her as they both grinned at Harry freaking out over the stars and Luna perching on his shoulders to examine something no one else could see. Amelia and Kingsley chatted quietly in a corner while the other Latents and people closest to them explored the area.

"You are the strongest man I know," she whispered to him.

Face softening, he dropped his gaze to her, finding her eyes bright with all that she felt for him.

"I missed you so very much."

Cupping her face, he kissed her forehead, her nose and cheeks. "Every hour you were away from me was torture, Hermione. I hadn't truly known fear until you were taken from me."

"We're together now," she murmured, "all of us."

"Yes," he agreed, his lips barely brushing hers as he spoke. "It's a new beginning."

As he finally bent and truly kissed her, a cheer went up in the room. Harry grinned at the action, seeing his friends as they had been before the Eugenics Wars. They'd been a rock of strength for everyone during that horrific time, but he'd been afraid that something in them had been irrevocably broken because of the roles they'd had to play.

"Even in the darkest night, they shone with hope," Luna stated. "It's such an honor to see a Compatibility as strong as theirs. I doubt we'll ever again witness the like."

Harry squeezed her thighs as Neville joined them, beaming and whistling boisterously at the couple.

"Shit, Khan! She still needs to breathe!" Ron hollered good-naturedly.

Reluctantly breaking the kiss, the two leaders turned to grin at their family. They'd really done it. Countless wars and pain had tore at all of their souls. It faded into white noise and then passed into nothing as joy rose up to surround them now. All was finally well and the future was theirs for the taking.

* * *

 **AN:** Quick, but it was more of an epilogue than a full on chapter. Nevertheless, I hope it suffices. Thank you all for your support on this rather off-the-beaten-path ship.


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